


Please Don't Be Sad

by Amethyst_5006



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feral Derek Hale, M/M, Mates, Sad Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyst_5006/pseuds/Amethyst_5006
Summary: Stiles thought he was in for a night of solitude when a full moon was set to rise that night, leaving him alone with his thoughts of being unwanted by the pack and his crush, Derek, which does nothing good for the sadness he's feeling.But he didn't count on a feral Derek to visit him to aggressively cuddle him and declare a war on Stiles' sadness.





	Please Don't Be Sad

"Alright, Stiles, you need to stay indoors at home tonight, got it?" Scott told him.

"Yeah, okay, whatever." He responded.

The whole pack was gathered around the living room in the Hale residence in the middle of the preserve, just before the sun set and the full moon that was due rose, where the werewolves would be out of their own control. It meant poor, defenceless human Stiles had to remain holed up in his bedroom tonight lest he risk becoming wolf chow which, after a week full of tests at school and cramming, was the last thing he could be bothered to deal with.

While the obligation of staying in was a bummer, he also thought it would do him some good to put some distance between him and Derek the alpha. He was nursing a seriously tragic crush on the older man that was becoming harder and harder to deal with and keep secret from the others, the only thing managing to keep his lips sealed was the deep frowns and glares Derek always directed at everyone but he couldn't help but feel there were some specifically for him, and he couldn't lie, it did hurt. But being away from him meant that he could at least treat his wounds privately, away from prying friends like Lydia and Erica because they were bound to figure out his feelings sooner or later and he would most definitely prefer later, because Stiles is a big fan of avoiding the problem until it goes away. Problem, what problem? Stiles refused to expose his, but the threat became bigger as the pack began to pick up on something bothering him from the melancholic smell he knew he carried around on his back and the inquisitive looks he got from the pack, even Jackson and Scott.

As he looked around he felt somewhat lonely, seeing Scott and Allison laying together on the other couch, Erica and Boyd licking at each other's necks, feeling the early effects of the full moon, Jackson growling on top of Lydia, and Isaac leaping up onto the couch to join Scott and Allison for whatever that was, but he was alone and aggressively single. The only other single person, his crush, was sitting in the armchair opposite him clawing marks into the armrest which made Stiles feel tense and unwanted, like he was the automatic cause for anyone feeling angry, or uncomfortable, or bothered, and when he thought about it, he sadly told himself that he was just an extra unneeded body that a certain someone wouldn't want and the rest of them could do without.

Following his dark thoughts, he got up from the couch, decidedly quietly, and didn't alert anyone to his exit, thinking it was best to leave unnoticed and not bother them with the useless knowledge that he was leaving, as if it mattered to them. He had gotten a ride from Scott to the house so he decided to just walk home, the fresh air would be good but it would leave him with his thoughts, then again, he would be alone with his thoughts the rest of the night too so what was a little toxic self deprecation?

As he walked to his house, the sky an orange-pink, his thoughts wandered to Derek and his irritated growls and glares he very frequently threw at him and what he must honestly think of Stiles. At best, he probably saw Stiles as a spastic seventeen-year-old who was most definitely more trouble than his worth and how he probably only wanted Scott for his pack but was stuck with Stiles from due to their constant joining at the hip, though now it seemed that there was some operation to separate them and Stiles has now outstayed his welcome. When he walked through his front door and locked it he wondered why he was fooling himself, why he thought he was pack because when you look at it, he's human and they're not, so why would he be included? That was probably why Derek hated him so much, but he just didn't want to be rude and officially tell him to fuck off so instead he was hoping Stiles would catch on to some passive aggressive glaring and eyebrow drops.

And when he looks at it objectively, he's not on friendly terms with the majority of the pack: Derek is a given; Jackson spends his leisure and school time making him miserable and revelling in it; he assumes Lydia still looks down on him for his social status, his appearance, his reputation, probably everything; let's not forget that Erica probably had a ball smashing his head with the parts of his car; the rest probably just barely tolerated him.

Looking out his bedroom window, he could see the pitch black sky lit up by a large, translucent full moon and decided he had made himself too sad for today so he settled for changing into some comfy sleeping clothes and climbing into his bed and trying to find comfort in his blanket. His thoughts drifted to Derek probably enjoying the full moon with his pack and being happily away from him.

A tap on his window about a minute later broke him out of his thoughts, especially when he saw Derek climbing into his bedroom and planting both feet on the carpet before looking at him with blood red eyes and furry hands with claws.

"Oh, great, you hate me so much your instincts have told you to come here to kill me. Awesome, to be honest, after the week I've had, I welcome you to rid me of this pitiful life." He mockingly swooned in his bed, trying to cover up his sad scent, before looking at the alpha and wondering what he's really doing here, what problem has led him here for Stiles to have to fix. Derek looked directly at Stiles and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply and let out a large whine before advancing towards his bed.

"Uh, Derek, what's up?" He asked nervously, "Can you understand me? When you're all wolfed out like that?"

Derek pulled back Stiles' sheets and climbed on top of him and yanked them back over them.

"So. What'cha doing, o' mighty alpha? I see you're very, um, close to m-me."

Derek continued to whine into Stiles' throat, which upset Stiles because as much as his feelings hurt him and made it hard to be in a room with Derek, it didn't stop him from hating Derek feeling sad for some reason.

'Derek, what's wrong?" He asked softly.

Derek looked up at him, eyes still red but with clear hurt in them. "Stiles. Sad." He mouthed around his fangs slowly, seeming to struggle doing so.

"What?" He tried to hide his feelings, Derek couldn't know.

"Can smell it. Sad's taking over your scent. Stiles sad. 'S not okay." He whined once again before wrapping his arms tightly around Stiles and bringing Stiles' head into his chest and laying further into him to offer warmth and comfort to Stiles, confusing him because Derek didn't like him and didn't care about him, why would Derek care if he was sad?

For fifteen more minutes he continued to aggressively cuddle Stiles against him, refusing to lighten up or move or let Stiles move, every time he tried he muttered about Stiles hurting and buried his scruff into his cheek. He even tensed whenever Stiles tried merely changing their positions for more comfort, Derek was on a mission and it seemed like he wasn't about to let Stiles stop him.

A twist of the door knob caused Derek to tense immediately when Stiles' heart rate sped up, his claws and fangs re-emerged and the red eyes became intense, his nostrils flared angrily. Stiles pressed himself back into the mattress below him, trying to get away from the threat and Derek's anger. Scott and the rest of the gang of wolves and various creatures of the night charged into the room, calming Stiles down, knowing there was no danger but Derek clearly didn't see it the same way and wasn't having any of that.

Apparently them charging in was unacceptable.

Completely unacceptable.

And in Derek's eyes, probably an insult.

Because Derek's eyes failed to decrease any expression of fury, he pounced in front of Stiles on all fours on the edge of the bed, and unleashed a fierce roar of anger at them for intruding, looking as though he were ready to kill all of them, striking shock into the pack's eyes as they instinctively became stationary and froze in their spots. Despite this, Derek never backed down, he continued to look on furiously, fangs bared, eyes tracking every microscopic movement.

"Ooh, Stiles, when'd you get a guard dog? He's feisty." Erica winked at him.

"More like an attack dog." Isaac muttered, causing Derek to snap his fangs in his direction and let out an irritated growl.

"Looks like the attack dog is finally making his move." Lydia stated as she touched up her eyeshadow in the mirror of her compact.

"What the hell are you all talking about?" Stiles asked, perplexed by them all.

"Jesus, Stilinski, are you that oblivious?" Jackson mocked.

Derek released a harsher growl at Jackson, warning him not to be rude to Stiles.

Scott looked towards Stiles and moved to approach him, with the obvious intention of subtracting him from the potentially dangerous situation because Stiles likes being alive, he likes it very much but Derek had other plans it seemed.

Derek immediately caught on and charged towards Scott, still on all fours - what the fuck is wrong with him, he's like a fucking angry puppy - and tackled him to the floor effortlessly and gave a bloodcurdling roar in his face before pouncing back in front of Stiles and instantly setting relaxed eyes on him and giving a lick to his face, as if trying to reassure Stiles and make him feel safe.

"Maybe it's best to leave him alone with Stiles, Derek seems happy here, we shouldn't mess with that." Allison proposed.

"Um, what is going on? Why aren't the rest of you all wolfed out and angry with the moon?" Stiles asked.

"Because we all have control and it's not the moon making Derek like this." Isaac told him.

"Huh?" Stiles was confused.

"Well we ran into some witches." Boyd started.

"And Derek started yelling at them and telling them they had to leave the Hale territory." Erica followed.

"Within two minutes of conversing, they were annoyed by Derek's, and I quote, 'broodiness and lovesickness'," Lydia commented, backhandedly, though with a tone of amusement, "So they made him inhale some strain of wolfsbane that made him feral."

"Wow, that's fucking fantastic, nothing screams safety in neon lights like a feral werewolf chomping at my neck." Stiles remarked.

"And Deaton did say to leave Derek if he seemed happy." Erica reminded them, ignoring Stiles' righteous objections.

Derek then gathered Stiles into his arms and arranged him bridal style before walking over to the window and turning to look at the pack, daring them to challenge him. He then gracefully stood on the tip of the window ledge, Stiles gripped white knuckles to Derek's leather jacket and clenched his eyes in fear, Derek was going to throw them out the window, Stiles was about to die.

When he opened his eyes, he was still being carried bridal style but they weren't moving, they were standing still on the ground outside his house. He looked up at Derek, realizing he had hid his face in his neck, and saw him looking at him with - was that fondness? Derek smiled at him and licked his cheek - what was with that? - before gripping him tightly but not painfully and running at top speed towards the preserve.

Derek, what the fuck are you doing?

 

*****

 

Eventually, they arrived at the Hale house, which did make sense actually when he thought about it, but he was still confused about why feral Derek had taken him and became a possessive puppy when the pack showed up. Derek carried him through the front door and upstairs which peaked Stiles' curiosity because upstairs was unchartered territory for anyone in the pack, especially Derek's bedroom where he had taken him to. The room wasn't actually in a terrible state as he would have thought, the wallpaper may have been a little charred and the furniture was a little grey-black tinted but nothing was crumbling apart at the seams or about to cave in, the floor and walls were actually quite sturdy. Stiles wondered if Derek had begun working on renovating the house.

Derek led them to the floor where there was a large reddish brown fur blanket laying in the centre of the wooden floor in front of a fireplace that was already lit and deposited Stiles on top of the blanket. He then produced another fur blanket identical to the one Stiles was laying on and layered it over Stiles and then dove on top of him under the blanket, reassuming the position they had in Stiles' bed.

"Derek, buddy, what brings us here?" He asked apprehensively, unsure how he would respond.

"Stiles stays here. Stiles belong here." He sounded out and slurred slowly and looked determinedly into Stiles' eyes, seriousness clearly written all over them.

"I belong here?" He asked quietly.

Derek gave a strong nod and threw himself back into Stiles' neck, massaging his fangs along his neck which felt soothing when you got past the fear of having your throat ripped out. Stiles felt warm and happy at the thought of Derek wanting to cuddle him and caring about him, it was everything he wanted, but he knew it was just the witches. Derek didn't really feel this way, and come tomorrow he would probably awkwardly avoid Stiles or he would hate him even more and act even harsher towards him. He decided it would be best to end this before he got even more hurt because that's what would happen, Stiles would get hurt while Derek would be fine because he doesn't feel how Stiles does, so when Derek was resting his head with his eyes closed on Stiles' neck, he assumed he was asleep and slowly and gently maneuvered himself out of his grip so he could leave while Derek was still sleeping.

However, as soon as Stiles moved to sit up, Derek gave a low growl which he continued to emit until Stiles lowered himself back down but locked up all the muscles in his body. Derek then pulled him closer and looked at him with a frown but there was no malice behind it as he pulled him closer to his body, eyeing Stiles warily as if knowing he was a flight risk. He continued this frown until Stiles relaxed his body under Derek's hold. Derek then let out a bark of joy and licked his cheek again before letting out a purr as he once again nuzzled his neck and inhaled heavily, gasping for breaths of Stiles.

Once Derek was comfortable and satisfied again, he cuddled Stiles to his body, lowered Stiles' head to his throat and let out a deep rumble from his body that never ceased, it just kept coming and coming. Stiles didn't know if this meant he was happy or angry so he decided to just stay still, let Derek get his wolfy snuggles and enjoy this before it would inevitably hurt tomorrow.

Derek's rumbles continued to vibrate against Stiles' body as he broke the relaxed silence.

"Mmm, mate."

Stiles' body stilled. What? There was no way, no way in hell he was Derek's mate - the guy hated him, there were so many other people Derek could have as a mate who were better than him and actually worth it.

Derek whimpered, "Mate sad," and when he looked up at Stiles, his eyes were glassy and watery, "Don't be sad, mate."

He grabbed Stiles' face and began to kiss each inch of it, his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, cheeks, chin, jaw and then a soft one on his lips before pulling back and asking "What's wrong, mate? Tell me." He seemed to be struggling less with his speech.

"Derek, you don't meant it, it's just the witches, okay, things won't be like this tomorrow," his voice broke, "But I do feel that way and it hurts too much 'cause it's not real."

Derek held Stiles' face between his hands and told him "Stiles is my mate," and pressed their foreheads together, "Mine, my mate, Stiles is mine."

He then pressed his finger to the tip of Stiles' nose "Stiles is mine."

He looked happy with himself and brought his arms around Stiles and pressed his nose to his and told him "Stiles is always my mate, always smells like mate and home, Stiles I love you, I always do. Really do. Was just angry and tense 'cause of the moon, had to restrain myself around you, always do, so frustrating, makes me angry having to hold back," he whined, "Stiles." As he desperately tried to make him understand his feelings.

"Stiles, please open your eyes,"

When Stiles opened them, Derek's eyes weren't red, they were their normal beautiful green and he was looking at him with absolute conviction.

"You'll still feel like this tomorrow?"

"Of course, I will forever, you're my mate."

He bumped their noses together again and kissed his lips. "Please be mine."

"Yes, absolutely." Stiles smiled.

"Need to bite you, to make you my mate."

"Yeah." He breathed as Derek placed his fangs over Stiles' neck and clamped down.

As soon as the bite was completed, Derek immediately began draining any pain Stiles could have felt and snaked his arms around him as tight as possible.

"You're my mate, Stiles," he lifted his face into Stiles' hair and began a deep, loud rumbling again to soothe him to sleep. "Sleep, mate."

 

*****

 

When Stiles woke up the next morning, they were still in the same position and Derek was still rumbling. Stiles turned his head to see Derek looking at him, he told him amazed, "You're mine, Stiles, you're mine." and his smile beamed hearts at him. Maybe Stiles should cut himself some slack sometimes, because apparently, the pack all knew he was Derek's mate. But maybe all he really needed was a feral werewolf mate to show up and make him see what's what.

 

He should really track down those witches and send them a thank you card for their amazing matchmaking.


End file.
